


All Silent on the Western Front

by rael_ellan



Series: Labyrinthine [1]
Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rael_ellan/pseuds/rael_ellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For a while, he allowed himself to be nothing at all. Not a man, not a Tin Man, not a father, a husband, a guardian. Just... Wyatt."</p>
<p>This can be read either as a friendship fic or as a Cain/Glitch.</p>
<p>Works as a standalone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Silent on the Western Front

In the aftermath of the witch’s defeat, everything just seemed to stop. Nothing moved, save the leaves blustering around in the breeze outside his window. Sometimes they drifted through, landing on the sill, even on the bed, if you could call it that. He thought it looked more like a small fortress with extra pillows.

He had been given a suite of rooms, somewhere off to the West side of the palace; for honoured guests, Tutor had assured him. He found it was a place of silence. Certainly, for those first few days, he may have been the only occupant, free to wander and explore as he would. He didn’t.

He sat, still, silent. He waited. He paused, walked to the window, to the door, stopped. Stayed. 

Outside, on the other side of the palace, in the courtyards outside, hell even the damn corridor beyond his rooms, things were happening. Arrangements were being made for the true return of the O.Z., the return of its infrastructure, it’s laws. He spent eight years locked in an old tin suit to uphold those laws, those beliefs. He felt that he should be out there, helping, but... 

For the first time in years, Cain found that his mind had nothing to do, nothing to focus on. There was no constant reminder of his loss, playing over and over before his eyes. He didn’t even have any vengeance to work towards. He didn’t have any goals. No one was relying on him. Not for a while, anyway.

So instead, he stayed in his room, read a few books, stared at the ceiling. He did nothing at all and let the quiet, the loss, the gain wash over him like a river. For a while, he allowed himself to be nothing at all. Not a man, not a Tin Man, not a father, a husband, a guardian. Just... Wyatt. 

“Hey there, stranger.”

He turned, reached for his gun. 

Glitch was standing by the open door, his hands worrying at the sleeves of his new (or was it old?) jacket, resplendent in his red and gold once more.

“Hey...” His voice sounded rough, croaky. _Like you just came out of an old tin box, Cain._ “You sent to... you sent to come get me?” Cain sat up, adjusted the sleeves of his shirt. 

Glitch shook his head, shuffling towards the bed, as though to sit next to him. Cain swung his legs over the side of the bed, not entirely sure who he was obliging more. Half way across the room, Glitch was caught full in the face by the sunlight, streaming in through the window. He gasped and turned towards it, spreading his arms and bathing in the warming glow.

He whirled around, grinning like Jeb used to. _Like Jeb..._

The light caught on Glitch’s zipper, flashing into his eyes.

“How’s life outside, then?”

Glitch stopped, abruptly, and stared at him, eyes wide and smile dropping away abruptly. 

“Outside?” He frowned, tried to focus. “Outside. Outside is...” His eyes opened again and he smiled, slow, smooth, and for a minute he wasn’t himself; for a minute he was a man who lost.

The sparkle left his eyes, and Glitch stared at him again.

“Hey there, stranger.”

Cain sighed and stood up, grabbing his hat from the chair and strode over to Glitch. _To Ambrose._

“Guess it’s time I was back in the world again, huh? Hope the kid hasn’t got you in too much trouble, Glitch.” _My name... is Ambrose._

Glitch looked down, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket, and smiled; a little sad, a little Ambrose again.

“What kids?”

**Author's Note:**

> Right, well the proverbial mobats have been attacking me for weeks with a story, but it's just too big and there are too many gaps in it right now. So I've been trying to work on that - failing, naturally - and this came out as a result of me just trying to actually write again. 
> 
> This will hopefully turn into the start of my longer fic... Hmm. Motivation would be helpful with that, so it may take some time.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this. :) And if there are any errors please be sure to let me know, and I shall correct them.


End file.
